


turbulence

by ghozting



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghozting/pseuds/ghozting
Summary: “Angel, it’s understandable that you do not know how to relax, all things considered,” says Crowley as he tucks the pair of sunglasses into the collar of his shirt.Aziraphale follows the movement before his eyes snap back to meet Crowley’s own. He frowns at the insult and the absolute delight he catches on Crowley’s face. “I know how to relax,” Aziraphale argues, a childish annoyance prickling at his gut. He can feel a pout pull at his lips, but he refuses to let it go that far. “But this isn’t a time for relaxing, Crowley. Can’t you see that it’s the end of the world?”Crowley shakes his head and looks up to the ceiling. “How am I the only one seeing the dramatics whenyouwere the one who was all buddy-buddy with Shakespeare?” He asks, either God or himself, Aziraphale isn’t sure. He doesn’t appreciate the question either way.or: Aziraphale is being dramatic and Crowley just wants his partner to calm down.





	turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> I've never read the book(s?) and I just finished the show so this may be incredibly ooc. Either way, ineffable husbands are adorable and I love them.
> 
> un-beta'd because I'm terrible.

 

>>> 

 

 

When the rain begins, it becomes harder to fly.

He doesn’t like comparing himself to the Almighty’s creations, he’s not a human nor is he anything else God molded out of her hands that was _meant_ for Earth, but the image of a flightless bird flickers to life in Aziraphale’s mind anyway. His wings do not have oil, they cannot absorb water so he can fly through thick storms like the one brewing above him, but then again, birds aren’t ethereal creations like him. Like he’s _supposed_ to be.

He supposes it doesn’t matter, regardless. He doesn’t think he’d be able to fly away, anyway, and not only because of the lack of wings attached to his back.

You see, the flightless bird is a metaphor. Aziraphale is simply stuck between a rock and a hard place, leaving him to find a resolution for a decision he does not wish to make. He hopes for a miracle, despite knowing he’s one of the only few who can actually grant a good one. It’s less fun when things go his way because of his _own_ miracles.

It’d be nice if, for once, things could go his way without him—or, heaven forbid, _Crowley_ —bending the rules. But, alas, he does not have the luck of the devil. The cards won’t play in his favor. Not in this game.

“You’re being dramatic,” Crowley grumbles from the comfort of his seat, nose buried in a magazine Aziraphale knows for a fact wasn’t in his bookstore a few seconds ago. Peeking his eyes from above the sheets of shiny, flimsy paper, Crowley arches a brow, seemingly unimpressed by Aziraphale’s pacing. “It’s clogging up the room.”

“Is it, now?” Aziraphale asks, voice pitching into something akin to a helpless demand. “I think it’s perfectly reasonable to feel this way in this circumstance. In fact, I think _you’re_ being too calm right now. Somehow, you must’ve passed your anxiety on to me. Now I’m worrying for two!”

Crowley makes a sound that could be a chuckle and he shakes his head. As he folds the magazine shut and sets it against one of the crowded coffee tables that loiter the room, Aziraphale clenches his hands into tight fists at his sides. Crowley slowly rises from his seat and tugs off his glasses, revealing the golden irises of his snake eyes. Aziraphale thinks that’s another metaphor but quickly shakes the thought off as he’s approached by the demon.

“Angel, it’s understandable that you do not know how to relax, all things considered,” says Crowley as he tucks the pair of sunglasses into the collar of his shirt.

Aziraphale follows the movement before his eyes snap back to meet Crowley’s own. He frowns at the insult and the absolute delight he catches on Crowley’s face. “I know how to relax,” Aziraphale argues, a childish annoyance prickling at his gut. He can feel a pout pull at his lips, but he refuses to let it go that far. “But this isn’t a _time_ for relaxing, Crowley. Can’t you see that it’s the end of the world?”

Crowley shakes his head and looks up to the ceiling. “How am I the only one seeing the dramatics when _you_ were the one who was all buddy-buddy with Shakespeare?” He asks, either God or himself, Aziraphale isn’t sure. He doesn’t appreciate the question either way.

“You don’t understand—”

“But I _do_ , angel,” says Crowley, lips curving up into a smirk, showing off his crooked fangs. “Remember? This was _my_ idea. I wouldn’t have suggested it I knew you were going to be so…so…”

“Sensibly apprehensive?”

“Unreasonably anxious.” Crowley finishes, sending Aziraphale a flat look. Aziraphale huffs out a sigh and crosses his arms, face scrunching into something bitter. Crowley grabs his face and directs his attention back to him, smirk having morphed into something more awkwardly genuine. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to worry about choosing between two bloody _cats_ you want to adopt.”

Warmth floods Aziraphale’s cheeks and he rolls his eyes (he blames the action on being around Crowley nonstop for three years straight) before darting his gaze away from his partner. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, Crowley… _might_ have a point there. But Aziraphale’s never had a pet and he’s definitely never had to choose which one he favors more!

This cat will be living with them for the rest of their life. What if they hate him? Or claw up the first edition books he keeps on his desk? Or, worse, what if they run away and neither Aziraphale _nor_ Crowley can find them—even with their combined miracles?

“You’re spiraling.”

“Am _not_!” Aziraphale cries, ripping himself away from Crowley with another non-dramatic huff. “I’m just—I’m being perfectly reasonable here, Crowley. In less than twenty minutes, I have to choose between two perfect animals to add to the household. What if I choose the wrong one? What if the one I pick hates me? Or hates you?”

Crowley raises his eyebrow. “Then you get rid of it?”

Aziraphale gasps. “I will not _kill_ an innocent—”

“I didn’t say a thing about killing! We can set it up for adoption!”

Aziraphale snaps his mouth shut. A sigh escapes his nose and he sags against the edge of his desk, leaning back against the wood for any type of support he can manage.

“Honestly, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal,” Crowley grumbles as he moves back to the chair he was sitting in moments before. He grabs the magazine from the table and glances over his shoulder at Aziraphale. “If you can’t choose between the damn things, you could just get _both_.”

He rolls the thought through his head once, twice, before his eyes are widening and he’s shooting off of the spot he was slumped against. Darting forward toward Crowley, Aziraphale grabs his flabbergasted partner’s cheeks and pulls him forward. He presses a chaste kiss on his lips and Crowley melts into the touch for a split-second before Aziraphale is pulling away. Neither mention how he chases after his lips, but the grin stretching across Aziraphale’s face says it all.

“You are a genius. Did you know that?”

Crowley huffs and buries his nose into the magazine once again, shoulders rising to his ears.

“Yeah,” Crowley works out after a beat. “It’s nice to recognized for it, though.”

Aziraphale laughs as loud as the crack of thunder outside. The bookstore shakes but the feeling is comforting, just like the feeling of falling in love with Crowley had been. With or without wings, he knows that he’s there to catch him every time. Even when a decision as simple as adopting a cat together makes him forget how to fly.

And that—that is a miracle neither of them has to grant. It’s a sort of luck he doesn’t have to be a sinner to obtain. It’s just how it is.

Aziraphale is perfectly okay with that, too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> [tumblr](https://ghozting.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghoztings) | [instagram](https://instagram.com/ghozting.art)


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